


i celebrate the day that you changed my history

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 03:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8516497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: But he’s never thought much about this sort of thing, anyways, so there’s no framework to say what he would or wouldn’t expect out of a proposal.





	

Jack is leaned up against the wall of the weight room, tipping back his head and a nearly empty bottle of water, all casual and loose limbed from a particularly vicious anaerobic circuit. As if he hadn’t just placed a small, glittering band of silver on the rubber mat Gabriel is caught half-pushed away from, ankles crossed and a suspended bead of sweat dripping from the slope of his nose.

No. Totally casual. Hitting the sports cap of the bottle back closed with the side of his hand, looking down with mild but guarded curiosity down at Gabriel, who hesitantly slides onto his knees.

“Where’d you find that?” Gabriel’s hands are tensed on his thighs, clingy mesh fabric and burning muscles.

Someone must have lost it. Cafeteria, was too annoying to hold a fork with it on. Shower room, didn’t want to toss it down a drain. He notices a lot of things on a lot of people, but he doesn’t recognize the ring.

Jack pulls up a leg and dangles his arm nonchalantly off his knee.

“Cartier.”

“Huh?”

“’S on the corner of Bahnhofpl and --”

“You _bought_ it?”

Jack raises an eyebrow and grins a little, bites the inside of his cheek to stop it from getting much wider. Gabriel wonders at what point in time this damn pretty boy stopped blushing down to his gut at even the slightest inference, and why that development had gone right over his own head. But then he catches Jack’s other hand, on the floor beside him, tapping out a frantically nervous tempo that seems to match too well to that of the dizzying blood rush between his ears, and thinks that it must not be so easy.

Gabriel flattens himself to the mat, elbow creasing the sleek surface, forehead in palm as he has an old Western stare down with the ring. It’s a... silver colour, he guesses. Titanium, silver, platinum, shit, he doesn’t know. A stout, square shaped metal with a vertical row of three diamonds. Diamonds? Really? He would make do with a rubber band and JM + GR carved into a tree.

But he’s never thought much about this sort of thing, anyways, so there’s no framework to say what he would or wouldn’t expect out of a proposal.

A damn fucking proposal.

A damn proposal on a damn dreary Zürich Wednesday in the damn weight room.

He’d have done the same thing.

“Alright.” So Gabriel picks up the ring, thinks twice about which finger is the right one (no, it’s the left), and slips it on, pretending his hands are clammy from the workout and not the fact that Jack will wear a matching one.

**Author's Note:**

> let's all be happy for a little while.


End file.
